


Before You

by MoonlitDesertDreams



Series: New Beginnings [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Endor, Ewoks (Star Wars), Explanations, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Injury, Mandalorian, Mandalorian Culture, Original Character(s), Prequel, Star Wars References, Teamwork, read the main story first pls and thank you, they can be dangerous, wookiee related injury
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:40:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23608480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlitDesertDreams/pseuds/MoonlitDesertDreams
Summary: Mandalorians aren't known for playing well with others. Quite the opposite, in fact.It was a wonder to  Guild members and civilians alike when one of the remaining Mandalorians willingly accepted a partnership, especially one with a blonde who he often described as having 'an outstanding attitude problem'.And no one is perfect right away- everyone has to start somewhere.{Or, a collection of one-shots based on my full-length, finished Mando/OC fic, Judgement Call}
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Original Female Character(s), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: New Beginnings [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1871455
Comments: 5
Kudos: 52





	1. THE INCIDENT: PART I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, and welcome back to the rollercoaster that is my life as an author!  
> This is NOT a sequel to Judgement Call (hopefully we'll get there when season 2 is out). This is a collection of backstory pieces/one-shots about Zakia and Mando's life before the Child. It was highly requested during my initial run-through with Judgement Call, so here I am! Lockdown has me bored out of my mind, and I'm trying to find a healthy outlet for it.  
> If you guys have requests/ anything you'd like to see from our favorite space couple let me know and I'll try to get to it! Ideas are greatly appreciated.  
> Thank you all for being back, and I hope you enjoy :)
> 
> PS FOR THOSE WHO ARE NEW TO MY WORKS: these shorts and drabbles are based on my finished fic, Judgement Call. I’d suggest reading that first to keep everything straight :))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> General timeline location: Before Zakia and Mando became full-time partners

The beeping of her fob grew more rapid with every step. 

Zakia crept around the mouth of the cave before her, using one hand to steady the rifle slung over her shoulder. She wasn’t concerned about a violent bounty- he was listed as a spoiled brat who went for a joyride in a new model starcruiser- but she tried not to cut corners. Cote Blanz was the name of her bounty, and he seemed to be searching for shelter in the subterranean network beneath the planet’s surface. Frankly, Blanz was lucky his joyride had crashed onto this planet. It was quite lush with berries and fruit on the temperate surface, only marred by the gaping holes that led below. A few villages were scattered about, but it was far from a bustling port. 

“Glad I’m not afraid of the dark.” Zakia muttered to herself. She pulled a light from her small pack, cracking it in the center and watching the green glow emerge to creep along the cavern walls.

She was about four meters from the entrance when the sound of another engine overhead and continued by, prompting the bounty hunter to pause. She ducked to see back out, smirking at the pre-Empire ship circling for a suitable landing spot.

“Too late, Mando.”

While the mysterious Mandalorian bounty hunter was a good partner on occasion, Zakia still enjoyed her solo hunts. It was nearing eight cycles since she had worked with him, and hadn’t been expecting his assistance with this particular bounty. However, Zakia had been late on delivering this particular asset, and wouldn’t be surprised if the Guild agent she’d taken it from would issue another. 

The blonde continued her trek into the underground and her steps slowed as the fob began to blink faster. The air was cold and damp; Zakia cringed each time her boots squelched on the rocky floor. She was coming up on a circular opening in the dark path, and tucked the glow stick into the rear waistband of her pants to avoid detection. With her light extinguished, Zakia took care to quiet her steps and press on with her back against the wall. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” 

Zakia’s eyes rolled back in her head as the inside of the next cavern became clear. Unlike the narrow and dimly lit paths she had transversed to find him, the adjacent area was circular and open. Pale light shone through the entryway, provided by a surprising amount of glowing insects trapped in jars placed strategically about the room. 

However, the ridiculous amount of interior design didn’t phase her. Kriff, if she was hiding in a subterranean cave network, Zakia would probably find ways to decorate as well. But what really bothered her was located on the bed. Nestled against the farthest wall from her- thank the Maker- was a mess of blankets, strewn about on the floor. Two figures were in the midst of something Zakia could go years without seeing, and she sighed. One was obviously a Twi’lek- the salmon colored skin and unfortunately bobbing lekku gave that away. It was safe to assume that Cote Blantz was the other. 

“This couldn’t get any more weird.” Zakia pulled up the scarf that always hung around her neck and tied it around the entirety of her head- concealing her hair and face from sight. The only thing visible was her nose and a pair of glacial orbs. 

She pulled one of the blasters from her hip and made sure it was primed before calmly strolling into the room. Neither party participating in coitus noticed her approach. Zakia raised a single brow before lazily lifting an arm and firing a single bolt into the cave’s ceiling. 

“ _ Kriff! What the hell?” _

The bodies immediately separated, and Zakia pointed her blaster straight at the man. There was another small blaster beside the bed that he was already eyeing, though she hoped he wasn’t dumb enough to reach for it. The Twi’lek was cowering, clutching at a blanket to hide her body while Blantz scrambled to pull up his underwear from their place around his ankles. 

“Who the hell are you?” He demanded. 

Zakia’s eyes flickered to the other woman once again, and she tipped her blaster to the side quickly. “You can go. Sorry to interrupt.”

A flurry of nods later, the Twi’lek had pulled on a short but covering dress and took off towards the door. Zakia kept her blaster trained on Blantz the entire time, tapping her toes against the ground. Once they were alone, Zakia did a lazy circle around the blankets and stooped to collect the discarded blaster. 

“I said, who-”

“I’m Zakia.” She said shortly, spinning the blaster around her finger boredly. Blantz flinched at her movement. “I take it you’re Cote Blantz?”

The man, now searching for a shirt, paused. “Who’s asking?”

“Me, but I thought that was obvious.” Zakia quipped, “I’m a Guild member. Your Daddy hired us to bring you home. Sounds like you’re in trouble.”

Blantz deflated at the words, and the tough-guy facade faded away. “Of course. I take it I can’t buy you off?”

Zakia snorted. “What, the same way you did with the Twi? No, your Pops is paying good money to have you brought home. Best payday I’ve seen in awhile.”

“I didn’t pay her!” Blantz argued, though his voice jumped an octave. “It was consensual.” 

“Glad to hear it. I hope you used protection, too.” Zakia lifted a hand to inspect her nails, keeping the other with the blaster trained on her target. “But I don’t have a lot of time to chat. Let’s go.”

Zakia nodded at the doorway, motioning for him to walk in front. Now that he was clothed, Zakia took a good look to remember him. Shaggy golden hair and a square jaw, probably seven or eight inches taller than herself. He couldn’t be a year over twenty-five, and his clothes showed he came from money. 

“Nice shoes.” She commented as he trudged by. 

Blantz paused. “So this is it? No cuffs, no warning?”

Sauntering close to the bounty, Zakia concealed a chuckle beneath her headwrap. She leaned uncomfortably close, and was entertained by the nervous look creeping over his face. 

“You like cuffs? Me too.” Zakia hummed, winking an icy eye at the quarry. 

“Not like that!” Blantz was blushing now, and Zakia rode the high of getting a rise out of him for a moment. “What if I wanna escape?”

She stepped back, resting hands on her hips. “Listen Cote, I’m the fun bounty hunter. I don’t make you wear cuffs, I don’t put you in carbonite. But lemme tell ya, if you don’t like that, I saw a Mandalorian touching down after me. I’ll tell you from personal experience that he would love to lock you in cuffs and stick you in a freezer like a Republic Day nuna. So I can call him, if you’d like. We go way back.”

Cote was staring at her, open-mouthed. “A Mandalorian?”

“Yeah, he’s a real  _ sweetheart. _ ” Zakia drawled. “But seriously, don’t try and run. I’m a pretty good shot- you’ll have a bolt in your knee before you make it five meters.”

Threat established, Cote exited the cave. Zakia trailed behind, making sure they stayed on track. She handed the glow stick from her earlier trek to Blantz and kept a hand on her blaster as they began to ascend towards the surface. He was being rather honest about the whole ordeal, and Zakia didn’t find it prudent to be harsh so she allowed him freedom to lead. It wasn’t until five or so minutes into the hike that a beeping emanated from her hip, and Zakia fished around in her comlinks to find the active one. There was a sloppy ‘M’ scrawled across it in basic, and Zakia positioned it on her ear as she smirked. 

“If it isn’t my favorite buckethead.” Zakia greeted, “How’s it goin’, Mando?”

_ “You’re just as funny as the last time I saw you.”  _ The Mandalorian’s voice was gruff and modulated, per his usual. 

“I try my best. Can tell you still haven’t got that com upgrade in your helmet yet.” Zakia teased gently, imagining him walking around with his vambrace near his helmet so the words would be audible. 

_ “I saw your ship a few thousand meters into the brush. Is your target Blantz?”  _ Mando sounded as if he was walking, though Zakia had no fear he would intrude upon her reward. They had a great deal of mutual respect for each other at this point in their lives. 

“Yeah. I took a while to get here. Kind of figured that slimeball of a Guild agent would issue more fobs.” Zakia slapped at Blantz’s arm as he moved faster, and moved for her blaster to show him she was getting annoyed. The boy paled, and slowed his strides. 

_ “He did. You’re set then?”  _

“Yes sir. Hang out for a few and I’ll swing by the Crest and say ‘hi’.” 

Zakia was preoccupied by her conversation, and failed to notice the unfamiliar surroundings until the ground beneath their boots turned into a crumbly gravel as opposed to damp dirt. She grabbed Blantz by the arm and squeezed, forcing him to a halt in front of her. 

_ “I don’t know, time is limited.”  _

The Mandalorian’s words were meant to be playful, but the charm was lost on Zakia as she took in their surroundings. 

“You son of a bitch.” She accused Cote. “You lead me the wrong-”

An echoing roar cut over any words she could form, deafening as it bounced off the rocky walls. Zakia clamped her hands over her ears, and snatched the cuffs dangling from her belt as soon as it ended. 

“Let’s go.” She snapped at Blantz, turning him around to go back the way they came. 

“I didn’t mean to, I swear!” 

_ “Zakia? What’s going on?”  _ The Mandalorian’s voice in her ear was suddenly concerned. 

“I don’t know. This asshole got me turned around when you called. I think there’s a Wookiee in here.” She rattled off, shuffling along as fast as she could. Her heart dropped when they emerged into another wide cavern, different than Blantz original hiding spot. Topping it all off, there was no exit except the way they’d come. “Kriff!”

_ “A Wookiee?” _

“Yes.”

_ “Zakia, there was a Wookiee with the Guild agent when I picked up the fob. Big and nasty. Get out of there.” _

His words only served to increase her already-mounting anxiety. “Thanks for the advice, Mando.”

_ “I’m coming in after you. I have the quarry’s fob, I can find you.”  _ The Mandalorian sounded to be running, and something in her chest was thankful for it. 

She yanked the comlink from her ear and reattached it to her belt. Rounding on Cote, she grabbed him by the nearest wrist. “Now you get the cuffs, cause you had to go and be a dick.”

Blantz tried to wrench away, but Zakia grabbed a blaster with her free hand and jammed it into his side. “Don’t play games with me!”

“Alright, alright! I’m done.” Blantz allowed her the clamp a cuff around her wrist, but stiffened when she moved around his front to clamp the other loop around his opposite ankle. “What the hell?”

“Try and run now.” Zakia shoved him until he was back against the wall near the door. 

“What are you doing? We have to get out of here!” Cote tried to move, but tumbled over himself onto the floor. 

“There is a Wookiee hunted right behind us. He will get us if we try to run. I’m gonna kill him as soon as he comes in.” Zakia primed both blasters, and stepped forward to flatten herself against the wall Blantz was leaning against. “And you’re- ah!”

Zakia tried to leap away as a furry arm shot through the doorway and wrapped around her neck, but she was too slow. The Wookiee had been hiding just outside, and her brain momentarily commended him for being the quietest one she’d ever come across. Her hand immediately went for her blaster, but the beast tossed her across the room like a ragdoll. Zakia groaned at the impact, and scrambled to her knees as the Wookiee came charging at her again. She rolled to the side and withdrew the dagger from her boot, swiping at the beast’s stomach where she could reach. He was at least twice her height and five times her weight, making the fight far from equal. 

“Damn.” Zakia huffed as she missed a good swipe in his direction. 

The Wookiee’s response was a short gurgle, and Zakia was once again dodging massive limbs as they swung her way. She managed to get a hand on a blaster, sharply drawing it from the holster and pointing towards the monster. He responded by grabbing her wrist as she attempted to shoot, eliciting a yelp from the petite hunter. 

“Hey!”

Zakia’s relief at the sound of the Mandalorian’s modulated voice was short-lived. The Wookiee grabbed onto her waist, yanking her body back until she was directly in front of him. A large knife was procured from the belt it wore, and Zakia felt long fingers wrap around the column of her throat. Her captor stooped to hide more of himself behind her, and Zakia lifted her gaze to meet the Mandalorian’s. His blaster was drawn, cloak hanging behind him. The helmet adorning his head looked dented and scratched, but he was still the same as almost a year prior.

But this time, he was in a stand-off with a smelly, aggressive Wookiee

The creature had his knife in one hand, pointed in Mando’s direction. The other hand was wrapped around Zakia’s neck, using her as a partial human shield. Her head barely surpassed his waist but the threat was crystal clear. The knife moved from Mando to her neck, and Zakia pressed away, eyes locked onto Mando’s still form

“Let the girl go.” He bit out. 

“What about me?” Blantz cried from his corner. His blatant stupidity actually annoyed Zakia despite her current predicament.

“Would you shut up? You’re coming with me, you moron.” She snapped. 

The Wookiee howled in its strange form of communication, shaking Zakia by the throat. She groped at the hand around her neck, though its strength far outmatched even her most desperate attempts. Zakia could see Mando tense as she stared at him, attempting to burn holed into his visor. She peered down at the blaster strapped to her thigh and back to Mando. The beast had her restrained, but not well enough to prevent her from drawing. Zakia took a moment to make sure Mando had noticed her intention before nodding imperceptibly. 

Zakia spurred into action as fast as she could. She reached for her blaster, drawing it sharply and twisting towards the beast holding her. It howled in contempt, jumping out of the bolt’s path. Zakia dropped to the floor and rolled, while Mando fired a shot from his own blaster. His bolt managed to catch the Wookiee in the leg, but not before it snatched Zakia’s ankle and dragged her back. It yowled in pain, and the blonde shook her leg in a failing attempt to free it. She kicked ferociously, trying to get a good shot on the beast. 

“Mando-” She grappled with her attacker, trying to get an angle to pull the trigger. “A little help?”

The blonde fired another shot and a cascade of events seemed to follow, though she couldn’t recall most of it. The Mandalorian was jogging towards her and her assailant when a sharp pain cut across her face, and she was tossed for the second time. Zakia’s head spun, and she felt blood dripping into her eyes as the world darkened and disappeared. 

  
  



	2. THE INCIDENT: PART II

Zakia was sore. 

That much was apparent as her consciousness began to return. Her whole body protested the cadence at which it was being moved, and she was dizzy despite having her eyes closed. Zakia managed to move her hands where they lay, and her fingers explored the surfaces around them. Soft fabric and cold metal met her searching extremities, and she was acutely aware of the shifting motion all around. Her brain was still reeling, and her eyes were too heavy to open. Everything was dark, and she could barely remember what she was doing before she’d blacked out. 

_ “Let the girl go.” _

_ “Who are you?” _

_ “He’s a real  _ sweetheart.”

_ The impact of her body hitting the floor.  _

Zakia flinched at the last thought, and the movements beneath her slowed. A sound that resembled a voice tried to fight its way into her mind, but the reactivation of her senses brought about a significant wave of pain. Her ears rang as a burning sensation ripped across her face and the ache set into her spine and legs. 

She whimpered, fingers digging into the nearest thing. The soft fabric. “Where…”

“...hear me? Zakia?”

Zakia’s natural instinct was to furrow her brow, and she tried to blink but her right eye wouldn’t cooperate. She squinted with the left, allowing it to adjust. A familiar helmet drifted into view, and it was suddenly apparent she was being carried. 

“Mando?” She croaked, fisting what she now realized to be his cloak. Another round of pain shot through her, and Zakia squeezed her eyes shut. “...It hurts to move.”

There was a short beat before his answer. “I know. Be still, I’m taking you to the Crest.”

Zakia shivered, curling into as small of a ball as she could. The Mandalorian’s arms tightened around her, and it just barely helped to soothe the words bouncing around her head. She was grateful for the break in between his chestplate and pauldron, as she nestled her head there to absorb his warmth. It was a strange feeling, as the air that washed over them as he walked was comfortable. Zakia knew that wasn’t a good sign, but tried not to dwell on it. 

Eventually the steps slowed, and Zakia heard a change in the sounds. The ground was metal, and his boots clanked against it. Zakia felt them move upwards, and she was finally brought to a halt when he lowered her down from his hold. Her cloudy brain protested, hands grasping at his cloak.

“No, you’re warm…” She whined, tugging at the material. It brought back the pain, and she stopped with a full-body wince. “Please.”

“I’ll be back in just a minute.” The Mandalorian’s voice was modulated and straightforward, though Zakia was far too out of it to recognize the strain anyway. 

She was left to weakly survey her surroundings. Zakia’s left eyes was the only available, as the right was stuck shut and felt uncomfortably sticky. She tried to lift a hand to poke at it, but only managed to tug at the blanket beneath her. The interior of the Razor Crest was familiar, but the small quarters she was in were not. 

“Woah…” Zakia groaned as the ship shook, and the sound of lift off sliced through her brain. 

Footsteps echoed around, ultimately reuniting Zakia with her rescuer. The Mandalorian reappeared, and she blinked owlishly. He held a large medpack in one hand, and the other was gloveless at his side. He knelt down, pressing a hand into her shoulder. 

“Zakia, do you know where you are?”

She nodded. “On your ship.”

“Do you know why?” He pressed, popping the pack open and withdrawing a tube of bacta paste. 

“I remember tying up the bounty. Or… cuffing him?” Zakia fought with her memory. “I don’t remember. And then I talked to you.”

The Mandalorian lifted one hand and began to place the bacta paste on her face. Zakia flinched at the contact, but relaxed as the cooling sensation spread through her. “You were attacked on your way out. A Wookiee.”

A Wookiee would explain her current level of pain. “That makes sense. How bad?”

He paused in his movement, helmet tipping downwards. “What do you mean?”

Zakia sighed. She was in pain and more than likely concussed, but it was obvious something was wrong with her face and chest. It was the epicenter of her pain, and what Mando was tending to first. 

“Me. How bad am I?” 

Not one to beat around the bush, Mando set down the bacta paste. “I’m pretty sure you have a bad break in your leg. Broken ribs for sure, bad concussion. He got you with the knife on your face… I’m not sure how much bacta alone will do. It’s deep.”

Zakia stayed quiet for a moment, understanding it would require sutures or cautery. “Can I see?”

“Let me clean it up first.”

She could live with that. “You said my leg?” Her voice was hoarse, but she pressed on. “I can’t feel anything there.”

“I gave you an injection of bacta in the field. It was all I had, and it needed it the most. It’ll need to be casted though.” The Mandalorian sounded softer than she had ever heard, which actually worried her more than it soothed her. 

“You sound worried.” Zakia managed, trying to keep her eyes closed and let the bacta work.

“Don’t worry about me right now.” Mando told her. 

Zakia felt his hands move to her left leg, palpating at her knee and lower thigh. She winced as he hit a tender spot, and hoped for her own sake he had more bacta injections to go around. His hands wrapped around her leg, and jerked before she could protest. 

A screech tore its way from her mouth, and Zakia’s eyes shot open. The adrenaline fueled her to sit up, which only caused the sensations to get worse. Pain radiated from the leg Mando had set, and Zakia gave into the tears that had been trying to fall. Her whole body was throbbing, and her head spun at what seemed to be lightspeed Her hands groped at Mando’s shoulders where he sat beside the bed, fingers locking around his pauldrons. 

“M-Mando. P-please. No more.” 

Somewhere, she was ashamed of the fear she was showing. The fight-or-flight instinct was stripped away from the abuse her body had taken, and she was left only with raw fear to keep her alive. Zakia knew she was safe with the Mandalorian, but she wanted the pain to stop. 

As a response to her grip, the Mandalorian squeezed her arms. “I’m sorry. It’s worse when you know it’s coming.”

Zakia’s tears mixed with blood before they dripped onto her lap. She was quivering- mostly in shock- and it only served to exacerbate her injuries further. The Mandalorian helped her to lay back down, and she winced with each turn. Her hand latched onto his before he could turn back to the med kit. 

“Put me out. Please.” Zakia murmured. “I don’t wanna be awake for this.”

The Mandalorian sighed, looking in the medkit. “I don’t have that kind of-”

“I know you have gas to knock bounties out.” Zakia argued. Her eyes found his visor. “Y-You know I’d never ask for this normally.”

Wordlessly, he disappeared from the room. Zakia drug in shaky breaths, feeling the broken ribs creak with each unfortunate shift. Her leg was still throbbing, and she knew it would only get worse as Mando casted and plastered it. Let alone the sutures or cautery he’d have to implement on her face. 

“Here.” The Mandalorian extended a cloth to her, and Zakia swallowed heavily before taking it from him. 

Mando kneeled back beside the bed, sifting through his kit. Zakia’s fingers tapped against the beskar of his helmet, drawing his attention to her. 

“Thank you.” She uttered. 

Zakia brought the cloth he’d retrieved to her face, pressing it over her nose and mouth. It was odd to implement such a technique on herself, but the fading away was a relief. 

As a reply during her last few seconds of consciousness, Zakia could have sworn the Mandalorian leaned his helmet back into her touch.

  
  



	3. AT FIRST

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> General timeline location: almost one year post 'THE INCIDENT', the day before the infamous job on Alzoc-III

“Oh, stop being such a funbummer, Mando!” 

Zakia was protesting as the Mandalorian led her away from the station’s bar. They were set to complete an assasination with Ranzar Malk and his crew the following day; the very same crew who had worked so hard to convince Zakia to come to the space station’s bar. 

“Zakia, I drank phattro through a _straw_ to make you happy.” Mando grumbled as he gripped her elbow. 

In all honesty, the slight buzz in Din’s head was something he had not felt in a long time, and didn’t mind at all. The phattro was smooth and strong, loosening up his normal inhibitions. 

“You did, didn’t you?” Zakia held his elbow daintily then, smiling up at the black ‘T’ of his visor. “Thank you.”

Din allowed himself a chuckle as they reached the Crest’s hatch. He tapped on his vambrace to lower the small ramp, and ushered his intoxicated partner up it. It was no longer a chore to him, more a favor as he and Zakia had grown closer. 

It had been cycles since the accident with the Wookiee, and she had healed slowly. The scar on her face was nothing more than a raised pink line of knobby skin on the surface, but the nerves beneath were still repairing. One knee wasn’t quite right, and she still struggled to see properly out of the damaged eye. Regardless, her spirits were higher than they had been in a long time. Her energy was infectious when it got to this level, and the phattro coursing through Din helped him smile a bit more. 

“I’m gonna shower while we have a water hookup and the hot water is actually working.” Zakia toddled in the direction of her clothes, and Mando watched her go. 

“Need any help?”

Normally the words would never make it past the mental filter, but he was still buzzed enough that they escaped. Zakia paused and turned to him, lips pulling up in a smile. The Mandalorian smirked beneath the helmet, enjoying the playful urges spurring him on.

“Mando?” She asked coyly, taking a slow step towards him. 

“Zakia.” 

“Did you just make a dirty joke? Have I finally cracked you?” Zakia tapped a finger onto his chestplate, sliding it up to do the same motion on his helmet. 

Din felt a flush of heat creeping through his abdomen at the close quarters and the rather lascivious gesture. His fist clenched at his thigh, and his mind took a more guarded route than his instincts pushed for.

“Not quite.”

Zakia sighed dramatically, hand dropping to his pauldron. “Fair enough. I’ll be in the fresher if you change your mind.” A wink followed, and she was moving away in a flash of curls. 

Mando watched her sashay away, eventually turning to his own nightly routine. He sat near his bunk, carefully removing the top layers of armor. Each piece was polished gently with a cloth, and set aside to absorb the oil overnight. 

He was in the process of detaching his cuisses when the ship went dark. 

Din’s first instinct was to stand up and grab a blaster, but he was already on his feet with both pistols set aside. Feeling vulnerable and uncertain, Din wandered across the dark hold to the ship’s man door. He stuck his head out, coming face-to-face with Ranzar Malk. 

“Sorry Mando. We’re diverting power to charge equipment for the job tomorrow. You’ll have to turn internals on.” Ran explained, brushing a had through his greasy graying hair. The smell of alcohol wafted to Din even beneath the helmet, and he was grateful to have a barrier in front of his facial expressions. 

“No problem.” Din considered the power usage for a moment. “I might put her into orbit around the station to keep everything charging.”

“Whatever you’d like, buddy. Big job tomorrow.”

Din only nodded, giving a short noise of understanding. 

The short response was enough to satisfy both parties without complaint. Din shut the door, edging back into the craft. He was headed to the cockpit to put the Crest into orbit, using the night vision feature on his visor to guide him. 

_“Son of a bitch!”_ Zakia’s voice drifted to his ears, and the Mandalorian chuckled. 

Head angled in the direction of the fresher door, he listened. There was sounds of wet feet on the metal floor, and water trickling to a stop. He imagined it on her skin, running in rivulets over- 

_Slow down, Din._

His own mental voice rang out in his head, but he couldn’t help the images. It had been a long time on the ship together; no action went unnoticed by another party. The Crest was far from luxurious, and the space they afforded was small enough to observe almost everything. 

Including a round behind while she bent to tidy the cargo hold, or the way her breasts rested perfectly when she tested the scope on a new rifle. Despite his improper thoughts, Din knew Zakia eyed him the same way he did. The blonde was anything but spacey- she caught on quick, and threw every action right back into his face. 

Din eventually made the decision to turn towards the door Zakia was behind, gently nudging it with his ungloved fingers. The shower had remained powered up for a few moments after the power went out due to excess water in the pipes. It had since shut off, and the blonde inside was audibly complaining.

“Mando?” 

It was impossible to see anything past the hellish darkness that enveloped them, though Din’s helmet gave him a slight advantage. Something in him enjoyed the excitement which stemmed from the darkness, and he elected not to power-on night vision in the fresher. 

“It’s me. They’re cutting power to charge for the job tomorrow.” 

Zakia took a step to push the door the rest of the way open, but a curse broke through her lips when her toes stubbed against the rubber of his boot. “Damn it. Are you going to fix it?”

Din nodded, the smell of her soap permeating his helm. “Yeah, I gotta turn the internal power on.” 

“Okay. I’ll just, uh, wait out here.” She wore only a ratty towel from his meager supply closet, and shivered when the cold air met her arms. 

Zakia reached both arms out as feelers to move away, and was surprised when the left came into contact with something soft. She stumbled slightly at the unanticipated feeling of warmth, and the remaining alcohol in her system. “Sorry.”

Her fingers curled into what she realized to be Din’s shirt, and his hands instinctively came to her hips to support her. The feeling he had felt when he was teasing her earlier returned. Zakia’s chest was pressed close enough to his unarmored one that he could feel her heartbeat soar against him. 

“It’s alright.” He breathed. 

Din couldn’t honestly tell if the words were for his benefit or hers. 

Zakia’s hands flexed, feeling the muscle ripple beneath her touch. Her face felt hot, and the heat quickly spread as the Mandalorian’s hands began moving upwards. They crept up her side, and chills shot down her spine. A moan slipped out beneath his helmet, and the sound had Zakia riding a high she had not expected. 

A year in the same gunship dancing around each other, and the tension had grown to an unbearable level. Normally it escaped in bursts of anger, but the drinking had dulled both of them down to something more intimate. 

“DIn.” She exhaled his name in the dark cabin, whispering it as if it would get her killed. 

_It probably will._

A soft hiss echoed through the dark hold, and Zakia felt the Mandalorian stretch to the side and set something down before returning his hands to their slow expedition of her body. 

“Do you know what you’re doing to me?” She murmured the question in the direction she thought his face was. Her hands moved up his chest, gripping at the material of his cowl. 

“I could ask you the same thing.” His voice was different- less computerized and softer. 

The realization hit Zakia like a brick wall. 

_He took his helmet off._

The implications of his actions were far beyond her scope of comprehension in the current moment, and Zakia could only open and close her mouth like a fish. 

“Y-You took off the-” She paused, searching for words. “Me? Why me? I don’t under-”

Din growled at her rambling, a long-dormant instinct prowling to the forefront of his mind and establishing dominance. He took one bare hand from her ribcage and swept it upwards until it covered the mouth Din was dreaming of being on every inch of his body. 

“Would you shut up for once?”

The assertive words had a whole different feeling pooling in Zakia’s belly, and she pushed closer to the Mandalorian’s body. She ran her tongue along the finger covering her mouth, successful in making him remove it. Zakia took one into her mouth, teasing with her teeth and chuckling when Din sighed with pleasure.

However, the fingers were soon replaced with something else. 

Something softer that Zakia had never seen on this man. 

Din Djarin, the fearless Mandalorian bounty hunter, was _kissing her._

Kissing her like two teenagers in school, hiding in the broom closet between periods. His tongue traced her lip and slipped past her teeth, and Zakia giggled into his mouth when his fingers twitched against the ticklish spot on her ribcage. 

“Mando…” She moaned, pressing her hips against him through the towel wrapped around her. 

Din’s hips jarred upwards on their own accord, and Zakia whimpered against his mouth. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to do this to me.” She whispered. 

“Do what?” Din returned, lowering his head to kiss down the sides of her neck and across the area where her neck and shoulder met. 

“Anything you want.”

It took a moment for each party to register her words for the challenge they were before advancing their actions. Mando made the first move, scooping Zakia up beneath the highs and holding her against his now-obvious erection. He carried her to his bunk, setting the petite woman down. She was still covered only by a bath towel, and he heard it fall away.

“I guess _you’re_ the one who could use some help now.” Zakia purred. Her hands sunk lower as he climbed onto the bed, and Mando grinned at the sound of her nails tapping against the durasteel plates on his leg. 

“You’re testing your luck.” He warned, tugging on blonde curls until the kinks were straight. 

"I like my odds."

* * *

Zakia was sweating. 

And that in itself should have told her that her morning would be strange. 

She blinked bleary eyes, yawning lazily before attempting to kick off her covers. They were lighter than normal, and Zakia furrowed her brow. The bunk was pitch black, and she only had her hands to guide her. Something heavy was on her side, and her hand wandered down to explore what was going on. 

An arm. 

_An arm_ connected to a warm, breathing body. 

Zakia pinched her eyes closed, trying to remember the night before. There was drinking and cantinas involved, she remembered that much. But everything after the fifth- _or was it sixth?_ \- drink was fuzzy around the edges. 

_“You're testing your luck.”_

The words were a growl in her memories, but Zakia would recognize the voice anywhere. She swallowed the lump in her throat and untangled herself from the arm before scrambling off of the mattress. 

“Oh, _shit.”_ Zakia growled when she realized nothing covered her body except for a shirt that was far too large to be hers. “ _Shit, shit shit!”_

“Good morning to you, too.” 

The modulated voice was all too familiar, and Zakia squeezed her eyes shut as a defeated sigh escaped her. “Morning, Mando.”

Surprisingly enough, the sound that reached her ears was a laugh. Zakia peered at the Mandalorian, forcing herself to refrain from a double-take. He was laid almost on his back, but propped his upper half up on one elbow. If there wasn’t a helmet in the way, she was sure his eyes would be running up and down her body. 

“Trying to sneak out?”

Zakia blushed. “No! I mean- I thought you were still sleeping and l-last night I was drunk-”

The Mandalorian moved faster than her hungover brain could follow, coming to stand before her in milliseconds. “Do you remember what I told you last night? At all?”

Zakia tipped her head. “Some of it, yeah. Why?”

“You talk. Too. Much.” Din punctuated his words with steps, and Zakia felt a smile creep onto her face when he backed her into the nearest wall. 

“You’re not mad.” It was a statement, as if she were surprised he wasn’t livid they slept together. 

“Do I sound mad?” The Mandalorian set a hand- still bare from sleep- on her shoulder. 

“No, I just thought- you know, you’re always so stingy and professional. I figured you’d want to keep it at a distance.” Zakia forced the words out almost shamefully, and diverted her gaze. 

The chipped blue toenail polish adorning her feet was suddenly _very_ interesting. 

A finger lifted her chin. “You’re the last thing I want to keep at a distance.”

Zakia met his gaze as best as she could, hands sliding up his arms and over his shoulders to bring them close. Mando's helmet rested gently on her hair, and Zakia's fingers traced his shoulder blades. It was the first time someone had paid positive attention to something other than her damaged face or shooting skills in a long time. 

“Thank you, Din.”

  
  



	4. VACATION DAYS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> General Timeline: shortly after Zakia recovers from the Wookiee incident. Takes place before the previous short fic 'At First'.

Din Djarin had learned a lot about women since allowing one permanent residence on his ship. They were champions of chaotic organization, and left hair  _ everywhere _ . He swore it was stuck to his tunic and clinging to the console each time he sat down. The co-pilot chair was even worse, and he didn’t dare mention the excess of clothes in the cabin below. 

But the main thing he took note of was the lack of predictability. 

Sticking to his normal routine while bounty hunting was impossible. Once she was relatively mobile after her encounter with the Wookie, Zakia made sure to challenge his every command and force him to accept a new way.  _ ‘Can’t teach an old dog new tricks’,  _ she would say whenever he refused. Left with no other choice after her comment, Din would normally comply. That was, until his logical brain caught up with the competitive side and he came to a conclusion. 

Zakia was playing him like a flute. 

Hence the reason he was searching acres of trees for his scheming partner. One- rather flimsy, if he was being honest- claim of an old friend who had good intelligence made Din land the Razor Crest on some forest covered hell-hole. Shortly after the landing gear hit the ground, Zakia had disappeared into the woods. 

“Zakia?” He called, swatting branches away from his vizor. “Where are you?”

Din rapped the controls on his vambrace until his thermal vision triggered, and he scanned the area carefully. A wash of blue and green colored his vision, the outlines of trees visible amongst the cool rainbow. After an almost full turn, a flash of orange appeared. The Mandalorian panned closer until there was more red visible, and took off in that direction. 

The closer he drew to the heat signatures, the louder the forest seemed. Leaves rustled about, and Zakia’s familiar raucous voice cut through natural cues. Din drew a few meters closer, until blonde curls were visible through a dense thicket. 

It wasn’t until he reached a gauntlet out to part the vines that a compact weight  _ swung _ into him like a charging bantha. The Mandalorian clattered to the ground, already beaten durasteel clanging against the few small rocks. The Amban rifle slung over his shoulder banged against his helmet, and his boots scrambled for purchase to regain their spot on the ground. 

“Mando!” Zakia chimed from before him. 

Din groaned as he dragged himself to his knees, looking up at the blonde. The sun framed her curly hair like a halo, and the biggest smile he had seen in cycles was on her face. Knotted scar tissue bunched up her cheeks and left a jagged pink pucker, but it had no effect on her evident mirth. 

“What the hell?” Was all he could manage as a response. 

“I’ve been wanting to come back here forever! I knew you probably wouldn’t take a detour- sorry- but these guys are just too cute. And they make great little knives. Plus some of my favorite food.” Zakia prattled on for a moment, all while avoiding his visor and making faces at the space behind him. 

Mando slowly turned, hand on his blaster. He was greeted by a sea of short, fuzzy creatures which held a striking resemblance to walking stuffed animals. Their fur was a mix of browns, grays, blacks, and whites, and all had round, beady eyes that watched him with unwarranted contempt. Small hoods and cloaks were fixed around their tiny bodies, and spears were held at their sides. 

“Ewoks.” He deduced, dropping his hand back to his side. The crowd maintained their unfaltering gaze as he spoke to his partner. 

“Yeah. Aren’t they just adorable?” Zakia knelt near the closest one, who hobbled into her open arms for a hug. Mando stared, watching the odd exchange just as closely as the group was watching him. 

“They… look like they’re not happy with me.” He drawled. Din made a move to stand next too Zakia, and was almost accosted by an army of spears. His hand instinctively shot to the Amban rifle, to which the Ewoks began chattering in a strange guttural language. Zakia rushed to stand beside him, pushing his hand away from the rifle. 

“No, no! It’s alright. He’s okay, I promise.” Zakia lowered down to their level once again, wrapping one hand around Din’s calf to steady herself. “A little grumpy, but he’s okay.”

The Ewoks seemed to relax at her reassurances, and the one she had hugged earlier approached. It chittered at the blonde, and she looked up to the Mandalorian. “I think they want to repay me for the last time I came and helped out.”

“The last time?” 

Zakia stood back up when the leader seemed content with her and began leading the crowd towards the west. She nodded in the direction as an indication to follow, continuing her explanation. 

“I learned how to shoot here when I was young. It was pretty free, just a stopping point for the Hutts. After that, it was controlled by the Empire until Skywalker and his gang freed it. There were some Stormtroopers straggling and some Imps on their way out, and I helped these guys out. Target practice for me, and less invaders for them.” Zakia shrugged. “It was a win-win.”

“Sounds like it.” Mando nodded. “So, you just lied to get me here?”

Zakia visibly shrunk. They had grown close in the few cycles that had passed since her injury, but she was far from comfortable when it came to asking for things she needed. The Mandalorian would rather her just ask him point-blank than beat around the bush, but she still hadn’t figured it out. 

“Well, I knew we were headed back to Nevarro to see Karga, and figured a stop wouldn’t hurt. But I also knew you wouldn’t be particularly keen on it unless it was for business, so-”

“Hush.” Din said. 

Zakia paused, looking up at his helmet. “Sorry. We don’t have to stay for their dinner, I just thought it would be a good break.”

“Zakia. Listen. Next time you want a break, just tell me.” 

Din used a careful tone. He was well aware Zakia didn’t want pity. She wanted to be treated as an equal, and that he could do. She had just as much skill as he did, and was just as much a part of the team. While he was the captain and the main operator of the Razor Crest, Zakia worked her ass off even after her injury to get back on her feet. She still had a bit of a limp and some faulty depth perception to fight against, but Din would have acquiesced a vacation request given the chance. 

It took him a moment to notice the baby blue eyes boring into his helmet as they walked. Zakia gave him a small smile at his words, and meandered closer to his body. Her shoulder bumped fondly into his upper arm, and Din smashed down the urge to flinch when she lifted a hand to rest on his other hip. 

“Is this okay?” She murmured. 

“Perfect.”


	5. HAUNTED

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Hopefully more Mandalorian content to come soon with the new season! Hope you enjoy, the ending of this one is kind of choppy- I pulled it from my drafts and got it coherent enough that I thought it might brighten someone's day.   
> Thank you all for your support- I love reading all your comments!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> General Timeline: honestly not sure, sometime before 'At First'

_Her legs were burning._

_Smoke rolled off her hair as the fringe was set alight by flying ash._

_Zakia had never run so fast._

_The screams of people and creatures of all shapes and sizes echoed in her ears as the whirring of speeders chased her further into the trees. She had seen cruelty from rogue bands of raiders and thieves, but never like this._

_Children ran beside her, calling for their parents and crying aloud. A ricocheted bolt smashed into the tree nearest them, and a child was thrown in her direction by the force. Zakia grabbed the girl and tumbled- rolling to the side. She kept her weight on the ground and over the squirming child until the mechanical whirring passed by._

_“Hey, hey! It’s alright.” Zakia started, leaning up and off the child._

_“I-it hurts! Please! I want my Mama!”_

_Zakia paled as she looked at the girl. Her dark hair was matted with dirt and blood, the latter oozing from a number of gashes in her neck and chest. She couldn’t have been more than eight or nine._

_“I don’t- I don’t know where your Mama is, honey. What’s your name?”_

_“Is...Mama… is she dead?”_

_A glaze began to drift into the girl’s eyes, and Zakia recognized the early signs of shock._

_“No! Listen, honey, you gotta stay with me!” She pressed on the girl’s chest. “No!”_

“Zakia.”

_A hand on her shoulder pulled her away from the girl._

“Zakia, wake up.”

Zakia gasped, jerking away from the new touch. She scrambled away, spine colliding with a steel wall. She dragged air in, chest heaving with the effort. It took more than a few seconds for her eyes to focus, landing on a beskar helmet and impassive visor. The sight of the Mandalorian before her was a stark relief after the nightmare he’d pulled her from. 

“I could hear you from outside. Everything all right?” 

Zakia swallowed, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “Yeah, I just… it’s nothing.” 

The Mandalorian shrugged in a fashion very much of himself. “Alright don’t tell me then. I’m going back upstairs.”

The thought of being left alone with only her memories as company had Zakia chasing his retreating form. “No- Mando.”

He paused, and it was just then Zakia realized he must have been in bed as well. His trousers were black and plain, as well as his tunic. The durasteel armor was missing, the only piece remaining was the helmet on his head. 

“Nightmares?”

Zakia leaned back against the bunk she had clambered out of. “Yeah. Sorry, I’m not used to having another person around still.”

The Mandalorian propped himself against the open doorway. “What are they about?”

Zakia sat down on the bunk. “I was working a bounty on some backwater planet called Jorganda. I found out it was too big for just me, and they caught my trail on the way out. It was a whole bad of pillagers that had a village pinned down.”

“They caught you?”

“No, uh, I ran. Once I got to the village and saw them burning down houses for people who wouldn’t hand over their belongings, I took off. Some thought I was a rescue, and followed. After that, well-” She swallowed the lump rising in her throat. “The raiders followed.”

The Mandalorian took slow and measured steps to the bunk, where he carefully lowered himself to Zakia’s cot. “Did they hurt you?”

A watery laugh escaped her. “Not at all, actually.”

“You blame yourself.”

A hand moved up and down on its own free will, and Zakia forced it down. “There was a little girl that-” she paused. “ _Damn it._ There was a girl that got hit by shrapnel. I tried to protect her, but I was too late.”

“Even if it was your fault, you can’t carry that around.” Mando said, helmet rolling on his shoulders. 

The tears that had been building spilled down her cheeks. “I-If they wouldn’t have seen me. I just…” Zakia sniffed, looking towards Mando. “Can I?”

The helmet only stared back, and Zakia knew he wouldn’t understand a cue for comfort. Mind reeling and tears dripping now, she slid until her side was pressed to his. The Mandalorian tensed as she dropped her head onto his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry that I woke you up.” She murmured. 

“I wasn’t asleep.”

Zakia flicked her gaze down to the plain clothes. “Why not?”

The shoulder she leaned against lifted. “You’re not the only one with night terrors.”

The blonde paused from wiping at her face, and tipped her head so her chin could rest against the round of his shoulder. “What’re they about?”

A sigh slipped out from underneath the helmet’s edge. “It’s a long story.”

Zakia slowly lifted a hand to rest on his forearm. She began soothing circles, and Mando’s opposite hand encased hers shortly after. “We’re floating through space. There’s nothing but time.”

The Mandalorian suddenly shifted, rotating his body to face hers. “I’m not sure it’s something we should be putting on one another.”

A laugh escaped the woman sitting beside him. “You Mandalorians really are removed from real life, huh?”

Mando shook his head enough that Zakia could see the helmet move. “They’re about my parents. When my village was destroyed.”

“You don’t sound sad.”

No answer followed Zakia’s half-question. The Mandalorian was stock still, and Zakia yawned. Hands still shaking, she closed the distance that had accumulated between her and Mando. Without warning, the arms that had previously remained stiff wrapped around her in a sideways hug. Though she was the one who’d woke from a nightmare, Zakia found herself holding an armful of Mandalorian. He leaned heavily into her, cold steel pressing into her neck and shoulder. The combined thought of her dreams mixed with the silent emotion from him caused more tears to form and escape down her cheeks. She hugged him tighter, almost being pulled into his lap.

“Are you alright?” Mando’s muffled voice was soft, seemingly creeping out from under the edge of the helm. 

“Yeah.” She managed, face pressed to the fabric of his tunic. “Do you wanna… stay with me?”

“I think I do.”

His words were enough to soothe Zakia. She allowed him to pull them back on the cot, and slowly lay down. He came down onto his back, keeping Zakia wedged into his side. She squirmed until she was comfortable against his body, pillowing her head on the juncture of his shoulder and her hand on his stomach. She felt one of his hands on her spine, and could finally close her eyes without the young girl’s face in her mind. 

“You’re too nice to me.” She murmured.

Mando’s helmet tipped down. “Thank you.”

A man of few words, this one was. Zakia only smiled as best she could, eyes falling closed. It took a few minutes of silent breathing and enjoyment of another body keeping her warm and safe, but she soon entered a sleep filled only with visions of beskar and stars. 

  
  



	6. SAFETY PROTOCOLS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> General Timeline Location: Between 'At First' and the beginning of Judgement Call.

Ten weeks into her pregnancy, Zakia was ready to give birth and get the baby _out._

She paced the hull of the Razor Crest, pausing every few minutes to crack her back. Din was packing a few feet away, arming numerous blasters and priming his Amban. He glanced in Zakia’s direction to watch, chuckling at her restlessness. 

“Something funny?” She demanded, finally stopping the incessant walk to have a seat on the cold bench. 

Din stood, hefting the rifle onto his shoulder. “Not at all.”

“Din, why don’t you just let me come along?” Zakia’s hands slapped against her thighs as she addressed the elephant in the room. There was nothing in the way of a baby bump yet, and no outward indications of a pregnancy aside from the horrid nausea that seemed to show up each morning. 

“No. Zakia, we’ve already talked about it.” Din’s voice wasn’t stern or angry. The tone was quiet and soft, something far out of character for the Mandalorian. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

The words left Zakia at a sort of loss, and anxiety clawed at her stomach. Since her accident with the Wookiee, they had done almost every hunt together. Sending him out alone seemed a crime of the worst degree, but deep down she knew he was right. They had more than just themselves to be concerned for. A baby was going to be relying on them; already was relying on them. 

“You’ll be careful?” She turned towards the lowered ramp, surveying the lush forest the extended far beyond their line of sight. 

“I always am. You’ll engage all the-”

“Safety protocols? Yes, I will. I have my blasters and knives.” Zakia tapped her boot, indicating the hidden knife. She stood to match him, pressing against his cuirass. “See you soon.”

“You will.”

* * *

Din ducked for cover behind a downed tree, narrowly avoiding blaster bolts as they flew at his head. Their bounty- a gruff looking Twi’lek named Solzo with terrible aim- had been a bit more than he’d bargained. Not only was he armed, but the Twi was flocked by three other men. One had since disappeared, and Din hoped he’d fallen as a result of one of his various blaster strikes. 

“You can’t hide forever, Mando!” The Twi’s accented voice was still far away, but echoed through the trees and into Din’s helmet. 

Faint shots echoed in the distance, and the Mandalorian imagined an uptick in violence after the commotion they had caused. 

“Mando.” Solzo taunted again, this time closer and easier to pinpoint. 

Din took his chance, lunging over the fallen tree and using his helmet to target his foe. He heard one bolt make contact, and Solzo cried out. The Mandalorian sprinted to his location then, careful to watch out for a raised blaster as he tackled him to the ground. A cackle was choked out of the Twi, whose fangs were bared in a twisted smile. His lekku flailed as Din fought for the upper hand, and Solzo managed to land a blow against Din’s neck that left him reeling. While he was much bigger, Twi’lek were often swift and fast- this one no exception.

“Cat got your tongue, Mando?”

Din ignored the jab, using his weight to pin the other man and keep him down. He swiped the cuffs from his belt, trying a failing to get them around the other’s wrists. 

“Stop moving.” Din commanded. 

“Why? Gonna take me back to the Guild so soon?” He chuckled. “A bunch of you idiots have already tried.”

“Been watching the ships come down, huh?”

Solzo grinned a lopsided smile as he was dragged to his feet. “You’re a fool if you think I was anywhere but inside that gorgeous-”

Din sighed. “Great. Let’s go.”

“You sure you wanna turn me in?” 

The question came after a solid ten minutes of silence. Mando ignored it initially, as was his modus operandi with most bounties. Talk was common when the panic set in. Adrenaline kept it at bay during the chase, but it was the capture that always loosened lips. 

“Scared of what’s waiting at home?” Din offered a single out. 

“Are you?”

The Mandalorian stopped, yanking the Twi from in front of him and spinning him around. “Stop playing games.”

A sinister look crept into Solzo’s eyes. “Oh, no games here, Mando. I don’t lie.”

Din’s mind shot to what ‘home’ meant for him, and his thoughts turned to the Razor Crest that should be only a few more clicks to the north. He knew Zakia would have had the ground safety protocols engaged, and that no one would be able to get into the ship but him. Still, the thought made his windpipe constrict and his head spin. 

“Move.” 

Solzo actually surprised Mando by refusing to do so. He kept his feet planted, and the same eerie smile plastered on his face. 

“I was talking to a couple Dresellians in the cantina last night. They heard that the Mandalorian- best in the parsec- was on-world hunting a bounty.” Solzo shrugged. “I figured it was me. But, then they told me about the partner. An ex-sniper who rides along after gettin’ her face messed up a couple years ago.”

Din’s trigger finger twitched. “Hunting’s easier with a partner.”

“That might be, but the bitch didn’t need a partner when she shot my Dad for a quick credit grab years ago.” Solzo kept his face even. 

The Mandalorian debated his options. He could run back to the ship and reveal the worry in him, or entertain Solzo a few moments longer. The Twi’lek showed no signs of lying, so Din decided the latter was a more viable option. 

“Out of all the women who are bounty hunting, you know it was this one?”

“Blonde hair, blue eyes? Short? I never forget a face, so it’s a good thing my Pops and I weren’t close.” Solzo’s lekku twitched in the cool breeze as it cut through trees. 

“Why do you care then?” 

“I don’t. I just figured you might be willing to drop my bounty to save her life.”

Chills shot down Din’s spine. 

“Yeah, my brother, he was close with my Dad. Stayed with me since.” Solzo looked around, pulling faux confusion onto his face. “Not quite sure where he went, though. He was looking for an old Razor Crest, I do believe.” 

There was no hesitation when the Mandalorian pulled his blaster and put a bolt straight through Solzo’s head. 

Din took in a ragged breath and ran north, abandoning the bounty’s warm body in the forest. He raced through trees and brush, boots thudding against the winding dirt paths. His vambrace beeped steadily as he approached, the sound growing more rapid as he came closer to where the ship was landed. Flashes of silver shone through the trees, and Din’s heart staccatoed as he entered the clearing.

The ramp was down. 

His heart dropped into his stomach as he slowed and drew his blaster. It would be almost predictable to find someone holding Zakia at gunpoint within, and he was actually terrified when that wasn’t the case. There was a trail of blood down the ramp of the Razor Crest, leading into the woods and disappearing out of sight. 

“Zakia?” Din called. 

No answer.

“Zakia!” Louder this time, he was still met without a response. “Kriff!” 

He rounded, mind racing for Zakia. For their unborn baby inside of her. Din forced himself to have some restraint, and keep away from the worst-case scenario until he knew the truth. The Mandalorian set his visor to track the blood, and followed into the trees in a barely-less-than-frantic pace. He was so focused that an object tripped him a few meters in, and a curse slipped out of his mouth. 

A glance down gave him a rewarding sight. Another Twi’lek, dead with a gaping wound through his eye. A fatal wound that was precisely in line with Zakia’s shooting skills. It gave him a slice of relief that cooled the hot edges of his nerves, and Din steeled himself before continuing to follow a trail of footprints. There was still blood mixed in, and it refreshed the prick of worry stabbing the back of his mind. He walked for almost half an hour before stumbling upon another being. 

It was another human, with long red hair and a pale complexion. She had a palpable frailty about her, and Din knew immediately she wasn’t a threat. 

“You’re the Mandalorian! I’ve been searching for you!” The girl chimed. “Follow me, please.”

Din tipped his helmet. “Why should I?”

The girl only stared, and he realized by the odd motions and speak that it was most likely some sort of genetic clone. “I am not permitted to disclose any information in the field.”

Din’s desperation for answers won out against any cautious instinct that arose.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

The town was a short walk further, and the clone led him to a stone building which appeared quaint on the outside. It was fairly large, and appeared to be a large square loop with a courtyard in the middle. 

“What’s this place?”

The clone motioned for him to follow once again, and he was herded into a small office-type area where another red-head was tapping away at a fancy sort of charting computer. 

“You’re the Mandalorian!” The human woman was oddly similar to the clone, though the pink in her cheeks and the fullness of her hair suggested she was just that- human. 

“Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?”

The human turned to him, adjusting her cup of tea in front of her. “My name is Koja. I’m the head physician here.”

Din’s heart skipped a beat again. “And?”

“Why don’t you just follow me? I think we should walk and talk.”

Koja’s words were already beginning to grow faint, and Din felt as though his head was underwater. She explained in her tiny voice how she had found a woman unconscious and covered in wounds in the woods. After, her voice grew soft and remorseful. 

“I got her back here as soon as possible, but it was too late to save them both. Between the blaster wound and the shrapnel, she’ll likely never carry a child to term after this…” Koja continued on as they approached a closed door. It faced the inside courtyard, and grass swished against his boots in a silent song. 

The Mandalorian was at a loss for words, trying to keep all emotions to himself. He was still on red-alert, despite his bounty being taken care of. 

“Where is she? I need to talk to her.” Din demanded, reaching for the doorknob. 

“Sir, she is severely wounded.” Koja held out a hand, keeping him at bay for the time being. 

Din paced outside the small stone door, boots wearing a path into the grass outside. The red-headed healer stood in front of him, wringing her hands together nervously. 

“She lost a child!” It had been a long time since Din had used such a tone, but his heart was beating out of his chest. Fear clawed at all five senses, and something else was creeping up his gullet. Something foreign and protective, wailing to be let out.

“I’m very sorry, Sir.” The healer was quivering slightly, but stood her ground. 

An impressive feat, considering the Mandalorian who was armed to the teeth and twice her height. Most likely covered in blood and brain matter from the Twi he’d shot.

“Let me see her.” Manda reached for the door handle, and the healer nodded. 

“Positives only. Her body is wounded, but her mind is in ribbons. Losing an unborn child can be incredibly difficult.” 

Din nodded, twisting the doorknob and nudging his way inside. The room was a soft peach color, with sheer drapes and a large bed against the center of one wall. There was a single figure curled up on the mattress. 

Zakia laid on top of the covers, knees pulled into her chest and arms holding them tightly. She was ungodly still, and Mando approached slowly. 

“Zak?” He murmured softly. Mando approached the bed, reaching one hand out to turn her onto her back. 

She had been dressed in a light purple gown, loose-fitting and comfortable. Mando could feel the bandages hidden beneath the fabric, and a pang of guilt hit him in the guts. Bruises littered her arms, but Mando was more concerned about her face. Zakia was fairly tan aside from her scar and smattering of freckles, but the skin Din saw was nothing of the like. 

Her face was pale and her skin was papery, lacking all of its normal flush. The icy blue of her eyes was dull, surrounded by red arteries and washed out by tears. One socket was bordered with the worst black eye he had ever seen. The straight line of her nose had been broken, reset by the healer who had bandaged it well but was unable to hide the yellowing of skin around it.

“Din.” Zakia’s voice almost broke him. 

Softer than when she had told him she was pregnant, and more damaged than when the Wookiee had scarred her. 

“I’m here.” He said, though his voice was barely there. The Mandalorian wasn’t even sure his modulator had picked up on the sound, but Zakia’s slight head tilt indicated she had. 

“Did you get him?” The question managed to catch him off guard. Mando’s heart skipped a beat, having expected to face the reality of their lost child as opposed to their intended bounty. 

“He’s dead.” Din swallowed. “All of them.”

Zakia dipped her head as best she could. “Good.”

Working up the courage, the Mandalorian sat on the edge of her bed and reached a hand to hold hers. “Zakia… the healer told me- she explained to me-”

“Don’t.” Zakia’s fingers tightened around hers, and water dripped from her eyes. “Please. I can’t- Din…” 

Her voice cracked as she uttered his name. Din pushed himself onto the bed further, encircling her within his arms carefully. His armor was uncomfortable beneath his arm, and the helmet was plain inconvenient, but nothing phased him except the shaking woman in his arms. Din collected her so he was on his side and Zakia was facing him. She buried her face into his cowl and her hands wrapped around the edges of his chestplate, gripping tightly onto the only thing she had left. 


	7. BUSINESS OR PLEASURE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This didn't turn out the way I wanted, but it's here! More to come, I promise :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> General timeline location: A few months after 'Safety Protocols'

“Can I get you anything, ma’am?”

Zakia looked up from under her sunglasses, taking in the green-skinned waitress in front of her. 

“Oh, no I’m all set. Thank you though.” 

The woman nodded and stepped back, leaving Zakia alone in the glaring sun. It had been eight months since her miscarriage, and the first time she had taken time to enjoy herself. Self-care had been hard to rationalize, but when a bounty came up on a planet used mostly for vacations, it was hard to deny the resort with rooms available. The owner wanted the bounty off-world as soon as possible, and gave the pair of hunters a great deal on a six-day stay. 

Din had insisted upon her relaxation, promising the sniper that it was going to be an easy job. Zakia was hesitant to let him go alone, but eventually swallowed the growing codependency in order to relax by a pool with pink water. The Neimoidians which managed the maintenance had gabbed about the refreshing qualities of the water, insisting she take a dive. 

Zakia chewed on the idea for a few minutes, ruminating on the thought of removing the sheer cover-up on top of her swimsuit to jump in. It would reveal the ugly scars from surgery on her abdomen, but there was no one around to see besides the occasional maintenance person. One final look around assured her, and she stood from the pool chair. Sunshine from the planet’s remarkably large sun warmed her back, and she reveled in the feel as opposed to the cold light of space travel. She wore a black high-waisted bottom with silver accents piecing it together and a top that mirrored it with strappy buckles in the back. With the cover-up removed, Zakia pulled her hair down and let the curls bounce down her back. 

“Here goes nothing.”

The water was cool against her warm skin, and Zakia blinked open to a pink field of view. The tiled walls sent sunlight spiraling across the pool in various directions. She took a moment to appreciate it before a storm of tiny bubbles interrupted her peace. 

Zakia shot to the surface, coughing in surprise. 

“Sorry miss! We didn’t see you there.” 

A child’s voice turned her head to the left, and she observed two small, yellow-skinned children of a race unfamiliar to her. They were human-looking, but small antennae protruded from their foreheads. One was a male and the other a female, and she deduced them rather quickly to be brother and sister.

“It-it’s alright.” She observed them paddling about, and couldn’t help the smile that lifted her cheeks. “Are your parents around?”

“They are getting _adult_ drinks. We’re twins but our brother is older- he’ll be here in a second.” The boy answered. “Are your parents here?”

“Afraid not.” Zakia chuckled, “We’re here for work.”

“Really? What kind of work?”

Zakia indulged the twins with over-exaggerated tales of adventure and mystery, purposefully leaving out any mention of bounty hunting for their younger selves. They floated on their tubes, enraptured for the few minutes she talked. It soothed some of the lingering emotions that burned hot in her belly, those that had been amiss since her child was taken away. 

“You really fought one of the Gungans? Aren’t they nice?” The boy, who had explained his name to be Kove, asked. 

From her new perch on the edge of the pool, Zakia smiled at the curiosity before opening her mouth to answer

“Only sometimes. But I don’t see how someone could be mean to this lovely lady.” 

Zakia’s eyebrows drew together, and her eyes darted to the opposite end of the pool. A young man of the same race as the twins stood shirtless, bulging muscles on full display. He held two drinks, both with stirrers sticking out the top. She smirked at his confidence, though kept her arms crossed over her stomach to obscure the scars. 

“That’s a kind thing to say- uh, I didn’t catch your name?”

“Sovun.” He rounded the pool, holding out the drink to Zakia. “Hope you like it.”

“You didn’t poison it or anything crazy, right?” She countered, swirling a finger in the drink. Zakia had her nails paint the previous day, and the teal color contrasted against the orange of the drink. “I might have to hurt you back if you did.”

“Lucky for you, I’m a gentleman.” Sovun took a seat about a foot from her, one leg dangling into the pink pool while he propped an elbow on the other. 

“I can appreciate having a lucky day every now and then.” Zakia tipped the drink back, letting sweet fruit essence and tangy juice flow over her tongue. The sharp bite of alcohol was only an afterthought, and she enjoyed the smooth drink. “Good choice.”

“So- business or pleasure?” Sovun asked. He ran a hand through his brown hair, avoiding the antennae on his forehead. A pair of dark glasses concealed his eyes, but Zakia was certain he was still handsome without them.

She still preferred her faceless Mandalorian, but window-shopping had never hurt someone before. Plus, she loved a good game of hard-to-get before letting them know she wasn’t available.

“Business, actually.” Zakia tapped her chin. “Though my partner is doing most of the work, so it's a pleasure for me.”

Sovun grinned. “A pleasure for me as well.”

“No business there, am I right?” She asked, kicking her feet about in the pool. The twins still splashed about, currently in a competition to see who could get from one end to the other the fastest. 

“Correct. And I haven’t got your name yet?” 

There was a rustling of fabric behind them, and then a gruff: “Zakia.”

The blonde’s eyes went wide, and she bit her lip. Sovun was obviously confused, but whirled around at the sound of another man. Zakia only observed his face, watching his eyes widen when he found himself sizing up a over-six-foot, armor-plated and armed to the teeth Mandalorian. 

“What..?” Was all Sovun managed. 

Inner Rim residents were always at a loss for words at the sight of a Mandalorian. 

“You asked her name.” Mando deadpanned. “It’s Zakia.”

Sovun looked at her as if confirming, and she nodded. “Ding ding, we have a winner.”

Her new ‘friend’ looked back and forth between them, and the twins were huddled on the other side of the pool. Zakia imagined they were the slightest bit intimidated by the stony warrior hovering over their brother. 

“Are you ready to go?” Mando asked, electing to ignore Sovun’s presence all together. 

“You’re done already?” Zakia stood, rotating completely. Sovun followed slowly, still confused as to the dynamics of the situation.

“I told you it wouldn’t take long.” Mando reached a hand out, leather biting into her hip as he placed his hand there. 

Zakia went freely into his side despite the strangeness of public affection where Mando wass concerned. Sovun suddenly had a look of recognition, and took a couple steps back. 

“Really nice talking to you, Zakia.” He said, waving awkwardly as he went to talk to his siblings. 

“You too, Sovun.” She replied, just to bother Mando further. 

The overprotective nature of him combined with the emotion from their combined loss had caused him to be a tad more domineering when it came to outsiders, but Zakia didn’t mind. She thought the alpha-male act was attractive, and couldn’t help but rub his arm between plates as the three yellow-skinned creatures bustled away from the pool.

“Friends of yours?” Din asked when they were out of earshot.

Zakia chuckled, wrapping an arm around his waist and squeezing. The cool metal of his cuirass was a relief in the hot sun. “Just some nice people I met. You didn’t have to scare them away.”

Din started leading her to the port where ships were docked, and a belt running across the resort to keep people moving as fast as possible sped up the process. It reminded Zakia of various spaceports she’d visited for tourist purposes.

The Razor Crest came into view as they got closer , and Din looked at her carefully. “It’s my job to scare people away. Besides-”

The Mandalorian snatched her wrist when she went to manually open the Crest’s man door. He instead nudged her into a concealed area between hull and wing.

“-I know you like to tease people sometimes.”

The words were low, slipping out under the brim of Mando’s helmet with little modulation. His hands slipped down her sides, and Zakia raised hers to cup the sides of his helmet

“I really enjoy teasing you.” She murmured, tugging down his cowl and pressing open-mouthed kisses to his neck. 

The Mandalorian pinned her to the cold metal of the ship, causing Zakia to arch up against him in an attempt to escape the cold. 

“Don’t I know it.”

Zakia’s laugh was music to his ears, and he continued to wander his hands about her body. Her deft fingers wound themselves into his belt, pushing back. 

“As much as I appreciate the tough-guy act, I know you’re not taking that bucket off out here.” She whispered low enough he could hear, and the words sent a thrill down Din’s spine. 

“And what exactly do you think I’m planning that the helmet needs to come off?”   
  
Zakia raised her gaze to where she imagined his eyes to be, raking her hands down his chest and pressing up against his groin in the meantime. 

“I thought you wanted to strip me down and _spank_ me, but I do have other things to get done.” She murmured with a weak attempt to break out of his grasp. 

Mando’s hands latched on her waist, and she almost felt the air around them heat up. “I think that’s even better than what I had planned.”  
  


A flush of arousal swept over her body. Zakia’s hands tightened on the Mandalorians arms, and her pupils dilated despite the daytime light. “My ideas usually are better than yours.”

”If you don’t drop the attitude I might have to gag you before I spank you.” Din ground out, turning to hustle them both into the ship.

”Not if I bind your hands first.” Zakia snarked. 

Mando’s hands snatched her wrists from behind, and the leather was soon replaced by cold steel. 

“Good luck with that.” With his words, the ship was plunged into darkness. 

Zakia stood motionless despite the heat pulsing in her abdomen, listening to the sound of fabric shifting. She smiled at the pneumatic hiss of his helmet seal. 

“Where are you?” Zakia was well aware he was playing games with her, and she enjoyed it immensely. 

“Right here.”

Zakia was snatched from behind and nudged to the wall, where Din’s hands wandered her swimsuit-clad body. Her bound hands brushed his arousal, and Zakia pressed her hips into him.

“What are you doing, patting me down?”

Lips finally made their appearance on her neck, moving up and down at an excruciatingly slow pace. Din’s teeth sunk into her shoulder, and she gasped. 

“This is much better than a pat down.” 


	8. THE CLEANSE: PART I (Halloween special)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello to all my return readers, and welcome if you're new!  
> I've had quite a bit of time on my hands with quarantines coming back into place and life changing again, so I'm back writing as much as I can. Not to mention season two will be here in just a couple days, and then Halloween!  
> Which brings me to this chapter and the next: It will be two parts, and a Halloween special inspired by The Purge franchise. I was watching one of them a few nights ago while writing and this idea popped into my head, so I decided to try it out.  
> So basically The Purge, but make it Star Wars.  
> I did change some things, like the name of the event and some of the lore (?), but it's the same concept of temporary lawlessness featuring our two favorite space people. I'm trying to feel out the hazy storytelling of horror movies, but mostly just here to have fun <3  
> I'll get the next part up soon as possible, I hope you all enjoy this. 
> 
> P.S. If you haven't watched the movies of which this is based off, please do so, the concept is SO GOOD. Also, keep an eye out for my Din/Zakia season two story that I'm going to get fired up as soon as the season starts ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> General Timeline Location: After 'At First', before Zakia's pregnancy

“No Stormtroopers?”

“None.”

“No locals?”

“No.”

“New Republic goons?”

“Have you been listening at all?”

Zakia’s icy gaze snapped to the Mandalorian. “Yes, but I’m just trying to keep everything straight. We’re supposed to protect a family?”

“That is what Ran said.” Din confirmed, pushing the hyperjump lever forward. The logistics of their new job were still fuzzy, but the pay was good and the people seemed reliable. 

“It figures that fat bastard would be too much of a chicken to do it.” Zakia propped her feet up on the Crest’s counsel and leaned into her chair.

“It’s just one night. How bad can it be?”

* * *

The planet they landed on was a strange sort that neither mercenary had ever seen before. It was located on the far out-skirts of a generally poor galaxy whose main export was produce. However, this planet was different. The civilization was far more developed, with a bustling main city that housed the spaceport which the Crest was docked in. 

Zakia stood at the arms locker while Din strapped his beskar on, deciding which weapons were prudent. She was already armed with duel blasters on her thighs, but the way they had been told this night was going to go, she needed to be prepared. 

“This looks nice.” She murmured, selecting one of Din’s lighter blasters. Zakia tucked it into the holster beneath her black jacket, securing a strap behind the barrel to lock it in place. 

Finishing off her weapons with two small vibroblades- one in the sleeve covering either wrist- and a large one in each boot, she turned to her partner. 

“Ready?”

Din was wrapping his cloak around his neck and into his cuirass as she spoke. “Yes. You have the address?”

“Affirmative.” Zakia twisted a strand of hair around her finger. The blonde mane was curled in all directions, falling over her shoulders and back. She made a mental note to secure it in a braid once they were on the job.

“So, what exactly is the point of this… tradition?” Zakia asked as they deplaned. 

Din’s shoulders shifted as he scanned the mildly busy airstrip. “I was always told population control. Let people take their anger out this way and the starvation and overcrowding stops itself.”

“Sounds like some Imp banthashit.” Zakia appreciated Mando’s slowed pace as they trekked towards the port gate. Din had the home coordinates plugged into his vambrace, in turn displaying the best path on his HUD. 

“I know. That’s why these people pay good money for protection.” 

She dipped her head in understanding. “So anything is legal?”

Din’s helmet tipped forward in a nod, voice vanishing as his persona fell into place. It was triggered by them stepping out of the spaceport onto a bustling street that was paved a perfect black. Hovercraft floated along, and the two mercenaries both looked incredibly out of place. 

“Lot of shiny for a poor galaxy, huh?” Zakia found the flaw in her own sentence. “I guess that’s why they do this.”

Weaving in between spacecrafts and beings of all different origins, Din led them in the direction of the house they were supposed to protect. Signs everywhere advertised last minute supplies, comlinks, food, and safety systems. People spoke in hushed words about ‘The Cleanse’, with Zakia and Mando being the only two unbothered. The idea of 12 standard hours- or, half of a standard day- with no consequences was both thrilling and horrifying. Zakia was unsure of what to make of the whole thing.

There was still time before they were supposed to arrive at the job, so Zakia dawdled near various booths in the bustling city. Mando slowed whenever she did, respectful of her wishes and defensive when someone stared at her scarred face for too long. She ran her fingers over jewelry and weapons, eyeing a bo staff with blades hidden on either end. 

“This could be useful.” Zakia picked up the staff with the shopkeeper’s permission, testing its weight and balance. 

“A very versatile weapon, yes?” The shopkeep was an old man with gray hair and squinty eyes, whose skin was beaten by the weather. He wore light green robes, and eyed the Mandalorian with suspicion. 

“Yeah. I think I’ll pass though, thank you.” Zakia could read Mando’s apprehension through the tilt of his helmet.

“Stay safe.” 

They exited the weapons tent, Zakia strolling leisurely down the aisle way. It was the nicest market they had visited in years, and she wasn’t about to skip by when they had almost two hours before their presence was required. 

“Can you believe all this stuff, Mando?” Zakia wondered aloud as she stepped into a booth full of women and children, the walls lined with dresses and handmade items. 

Each girls’ hair was braided into intricate patterns and styles, with colors ranging on the darker end of the spectrum. 

“Mando?” Zakia peaked back towards the opening when there was no response from her partner, but shrugged. He was an adult, and probably had no interest in the planet’s latest female fashion. 

“Is there something specific you’re looking for, my dear?” One of the older women noticed her first. 

Zakia had her hand on a simple dark grey knit top, and she turned to the woman. “Oh I’m just browsing.”

At the sound of her voice, a barrage of small footsteps came towards her. Zakia smiled as three young girls appeared, all making grabby hands up at her. 

“Miss, can we braid your hair for you? It’s very pretty!” The oldest chimed. Her own hair was braided into four sections, all wove together in the back with clear bands. 

One glance to the wall behind the counter provided her with a set of prices, none of which were too outrageous. She smiled at the kids, who were all probably between eight and ten years old. They were bouncing with excitement, and she was putty in their hands. 

“You know what, I think that’s a great idea.” Zakia smiled, and the women who were crafting behind their counter smiled and nodded gratefully. She spun towards the door, “I just need to get some credits from my partner.”

Two steps into her quest, Zakia walked into a solid steel wall. Her eyes lifted to a familiar beskar mask, and she grinned. “Just who I was looking for!”

The Mandalorian didn’t speak, only acknowledged her with a tilt of his head. 

“These nice girls,” Zakia tugged him behind her and motioned to the kids, “Are going to braid my hair so I don’t have to.”

The women and kids who had previously looked so open were now withdrawn, in obvious fear of Mando’s presence. Zakia was familiar with the reaction, and set a careful hand on his chest to show them he was not a threat. 

“He’s okay. Right, Mando?”

Between Zakia’s blue orbs and the little girls who were so excited to plait her hair, Din was helpless. 

“I mean you no harm.” His voice was less aggressive than normal, and it allowed everyone to relax. 

Zakia sat on the floor with the three girls, who immediately got to work on her hair. She spoke softly to them about how she wanted an updo for work tonight, and they worked with her style. Din leaned against the counter a few feet away, not interested in wandering anymore shops. 

“Are you here on an assignment, Mandalorian?” 

Mando turned at his title, looking at the woman who had spoken. She was elderly, seated in a plush chair with knitting needles in hand. Her brown eyes were sharp though, taking in every inch of his weaponry and armor. 

“I am.”

She nodded, setting the needles down. “You know what tonight is then?”

A nod. “I’ve been told.”

“It’s an abomination.” One of the other women, this one closer to his age, chimed in. 

“I was under the impression it was a positive for this planet.” Din replied, leaning a bracer onto the counter. 

“It took our husbands away. All of them.” 

Zakia’s eyes found his visor, and Din could feel the apprehension in her gaze. 

“There are many who use this as an excuse, and many who hate it. The leaders will never change.” The old woman said. “We’ve learned to live and survive.”

“You defend yourselves?” Din inquired, curious as to how three women and an elderly woman- he guessed her to be their mother- could survive an annual night of murder and mayhem year after year. 

“We hide. Lock ourselves away while the rich go off-planet.” The younger woman again, this time with more confidence. “The men are usually the ones to fight it out.”

“Brave of you to come here. Both of you are being paid handsomely, I hope?” The elderly woman aked. 

“We work together. And yes, we are being well-compensated.” Zakia replied, knowing how unlikely Din was to elaborate. 

“Good. Stay safe. The Cleanse is dangerous, even for the most skilled fighters.”

* * *

A hundred credits and an hour later, Din and Zakia were greeted by a butler droid. The Mandalorian immediately tensed up, but followed the machine into the home they would be defending. Zakia looked around with wonder, taking in high ceilings and marble walls adorned with art from all over the system. Din’s beat up armor looked like it should be illegal in the house; even Zakia’s old tactical coat looked scruffy in comparison.

“Ah, you made it.” 

A short, rotund man appeared from a door on their left, wearing business attire and a single monocle over one eye. He outstretched his hand for a shake, to which Zakia returned. 

“We did. Beautiful planet you live on.” Zakia tipped her head towards the door. 

“Thank you.” The man then turned his hand to the Mandalorian, who let it fall awkwardly. 

“Sorry sir. This is my partner, Mando.” Zakia introduced. “He’s the boss when it comes to security and everything, so when lockdown time starts he’s in charge.”

“It is an honor to be housing and working with a Mandalorian, if only for a few hours.” He bowed slightly to Din, who nodded his thanks without words. “My name is Hen Jalkung- I wasn’t sure if it was mentioned in the listing or not.”

“Yes, Mr. Jalkung, I think it was.” Zakia decided. “Would you like to show us around and we can start deciding where to make a safe room and how this will be gone about?”

“Of course, right this way.”

The pair followed, blissfully unaware of what the night had in store.


	9. THE CLEANSE - PART II (Halloween special)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OK OK OK I was focusing on this but had to wrap it up, because as soon as I press post here I'm working on the SEASON 2 story for Mando and Zakia. Originally I was going to wait until there was a couple episodes out, but I'm too impatient. Keep a look out for a new story on my collection, tentatively titled 'Broken Halos'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> General Timeline Location: After "At First", before Zakia's pregnancy

The planet’s annual event was scheduled to begin at 20:00 and conclude at 8:00. 

Once Mando and Zakia had scoped the house inside and out, they decided to put a safe room in the center, within a study that Hen used for work. They had been briefly introduced to Hen’s wife and two kids, who were both similar in stature. The daughter was Lana and the son Koyu, while the wife apparently had an extremely long name that she insisted they shorten to Juna. Each person had been incredibly grateful, and the Mandalorian could only tell them not to be until the morning. 

Zakia had put explosive charges at all entry points if someone tried to break in, as well as comlinks that were connected to both Din’s helmet and her handheld detector. It seemed enough safety measures, especially for a family who was surrounded by other houses with the same level of risk. There had been others who were obviously doing the same job as Din and Zakia, though they had moved onto the upper-class neighborhoods where government officials made a home. 

With a remaining ten minutes, Zakia curled herself onto the couch across from Juna. “If you don’t mind my asking, why all the security? I know people break into houses, but not everyone in the neighborhood has a Mandalorian guarding the door.”

Juna lifted her shoulders. “Hen works in the import and export trade. There’s a lot of feelings about that on this planet, so we worry.”

Zakia nodded, sitting back to attention when Din entered the room. “Can I speak to you?”

Juna watched Zakia stand and walk out of the room. The assassin allowed the Mandalorian to steer her into one of the refresher rooms off the foyer. Even it was elegant, with sleek black countertops and a marble floor whose cool temperature bled through Zakia’s socks. 

“Hey.” She murmured once they were inside, feeling small against his armored body. “Trying to get a quickie in before the action?”

A snort crackled through his vocoder. “I don’t think we have time.”

“Sad. If this night is as bad as they say, it might be our last chance.” Zakia placed both hands on the sleek marble counter, looking at Mando through the mirror in front of her. His impassive visor stared back.

“It will be fine. I just wanted to tell you to stay sharp. There’s a reason we’re here, and they’re not letting it on.” He tapped on his bracer, syncing their comlinks. 

Zakia took the offered device, placing it in her ear and bending the bar to fit around the outside. “You think they’re withholding the real reason we’re here?”

“For an upper-class family whose only major asset is a fat man who does off-planet trade, yes. I know there is xenophobic sentiments here, but nothing that warrants our work.” Mando replied. His hand wandered to Zakia’s neck, where her headscarf hung. “Cover your face.”

“Yes sir.” Zakia did as he requested.

Din used a hand on her left hip to spin her around. “Be careful. Stay close.”

His helmet touched her forehead, and Zakia smiled. “I know.”

They stayed like that for a moment, until a boomin siren shook the house. Both parties jumped, and Zakia’s head thunked against the Mandalorian’s helmet. Her hand shot up to rub the sore spot.

“I guess that’s our cue.”

Back in the safe room, Hen and Juna sat on the couch with kids on either side. A holographic message appeared on the central communicator, and Zakia stood beside Din as it began running closed captions. 

_ This is not a test. _

_ This is your emergency communications system, announcing the commencement of the Annual Cleanse, sanctioned by the Nobul Government and voted on by the people of the High Court. Weapons ranked at a 6 or below by New Republic guidelines have been authorized for use during the Cleanse. All other weapons are restricted. All those granted immunity from the Cleanse have been moved off-world. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 Galactic Standard hours. Law enforcement and medical services will be unavailable until 8 A.M. Galactic Standard time when The Cleanse is completed. The Nobul High Court wishes a safe Cleanse.  _

_ Maker be with you all.  _

The same siren that had jarred Zakia and the Mandalorian sounded again, shaking the house with it’s wails. The Jalkung family cowered into the couch. 

“That’s.... Morbid.” Zakia murmured to her partner. 

Mando nodded in agreement and turned to the family. 

“You are to stay in this room, and this room  _ only.  _ Every half-hour, I’m going to do a sweep of the house while Zakia stays with you. She’s a good shot, but my armor is advantageous on the outside. These doors will stay barricaded while we are all in, and while I am outside.” Din pointed to the door to emphasize his point, “Zakia and I have a secure communication channel and will be in touch throughout all my sweeps.”

Juna fiddled with her blouse. “You’re both qualified?”

The veiled question was more or less if Zakia was qualified, as no one was actively questioning the skillset of a Mandalorian. 

“We’re both trained in hand-to-hand, and blade work. I used to be a sharpshooter, and Mando is… overqualified.” Zakia knew they were only asking out of caution, so she kept the annoyance out of her voice. 

“Sit tight and try to relax. It’s going to be a long night.”

* * *

Din began his sixth sweep of the house at 23:30.

Hen had assured him the first few hours were always lowkey; they consisted mostly of bandits and young people stealing from the markets to feed their families. It made sense, and the sentiments Din had received from the women in the city made him think most people doing heinous activities were not local. It would take time for confidence to build, even though they were guaranteed immunity from whatever urges struck them.

The Mandalorian paused at the house’s southernmost window, looking through the metal shutters into town. There was a group of young female Twi-leks prancing around a male on the street. He looked unconscious, and Din didn’t find himself incredibly bothered by the act. There were knives in the hands of all, and it seemed to him a revenge mission. Another minute of observing proved him correct as his helmet picked up on their accusatory words echoing down the street. 

Honestly, he had that one coming. 

Din continued walking through the house, checking the upper floor slowly and carefully. Zakia’s end of the comlink was silent, assuring him that all was well in the center of the house. The only noise was his boots against plush rugs, and the occasional ting of his weapons bouncing against beskar. 

“Clear on the main floor, working on the upper level.” Din informed her, pushing open the master bedroom door and performing his entry quietly. 

_ “Copy that. Hey, the kids tell me there is soda in the kitchen icebox. Wanna be a dear?”  _ Zakia’s chipper voice never failed to amuse him, and the Mandalorian chuffed. 

“We’ll see if-” Din’s words were cut off as a sudden sensation of weightlessness took over. His mind blanked, and he was unable to put together what had happened.

_...What? _

Since when was the Mandalorian gazing starward, and where did the smell of smoke come from?

Din blinked at his HUD, eyes facing the ceiling. His ears were ringing, and vibrations shook his helmet. 

_ “...Mando- hear- happened?”  _ Zakia’s voice was breaking apart through his earpiece, and Din fought to gain some sense. 

“Explosion... “ His own words grounded him back in reality, and Mando scrambled to his feet. “The house is compromised.”

Staggering forward, he turned on his thermal vision. One pass showed two bodies, and on a delayed note Din realized they had already made it to the staircase. He was dazed longer than he thought.

“Zak, they’re on the stairs, I’m in pursuit.” The Mandalorian charged out of the bedroom, boots thunking against singed wood and blackened tile.

_ “I see them with the binocs. They’re searching the main floor, haven’t got to us yet.” _

In retrospect, Zakia should have assumed the intruders would also have access to thermal technology. It wasn’t hard to get since the war, but the only thing on her brain was keeping the Jalkungs safe. 

“Get up against the back wall, and flip the table.” She hissed, taking her own spot of cover behind the sofa.

The family scrambled to do so, eventually hunkering down so they were unable to be seen upon initial entry. Zakia tracked the invaders through Mando’s binocs once more, taking note that they were still. Instead of the moving blobs that had been present before, they were eerily still and straight-backed. 

“Mando, do you have a visual?”

A click of static answered her. 

“Are there only two for sure?”

Another click. 

“Are you-”

BANG. 

Zakia flattened herself to the ground as streaks of plasma gouged holes through the walls. The Jalkungs audibly gasped, children whimpering at an annoying frequency. The shots continued to blast through plaster and drywall, spraying white powder in their wake. 

“Damn it!” She cursed, focusing on the noise. 

It took her a few seconds to figure out the starting point, but Zakia managed to count shots from a cartridge reload, and was able to time out the next. Once they paused, she made a break for the door with knives in both hands. 

The foyer was littered with white powder as well, giving the entire house a snowy wonderland feel that was an odd juxtaposition against the current situation. Zakia heard muffled thumps coming from the kitchen area, hustling across the house to find Din locked in combat with two Kubaz assassins. It was apparent by their robes and gear that they were trained, though not as well as the Mandalorian. 

“Hey!” Zakia took their attention with a single word. “You’re gonna let him have all the fun?”

The larger of the two opted to charge Zakia, and she was able to duck gracefully under the swing, tapping the knife in her wrist guard and drawing it to a deadly point. The Kubaz, unaware of this dirty trick, spun on his heel and grabbed her by the hair, fist locking around the bun it was braided into. Zakia yelped in surprise, but used the hand to her advantage. She grabbed his wrist and thrust her body upwards, locking her ankles around his upper arm. 

“Surprise.”

Zakia jabbed the blade into his forearm, eliciting a strangled whir from the creature. It threw its arm in a wide sweep, dislodging Zakia into the ground. She leapt back to her feet, swinging upwards with her blade on the way. The knife sliced a wide gash into the Kubaz’s leg, and a spray of oddly dark-colored blood coated her face. 

“Zak, heads up.” 

She responded to Mando’s warning just in time to avoid crashing into him, hopping over a dura-steel covered leg as it swept out towards his opponent. The sudden interruption caught hers off guard, and Zakia lashed out with the blade a second time. It caught the rough edge of his elongated nose, and the being cried out. He doubled over to clutch at it, and Zakia took the liberty of ending his tirade with a boot to the face. Din’s foe looked almost worse, suffering from two blaster wounds and bleeding profusely from the chest. 

As if she’d been unaware, the thought of her guns suddenly dawned, and Zakia had a bolt through his head before either male could make another move. Din dropped his fists. “I had him.”

“I know. You looked tired.” Zakia snarked. 

A clamoring behind her was ended with a quick shot to the head, ending the life of the one she had been fighting moments earlier. 

“So much for a simple night.” She ground her teeth. “And they said there was never a break-in during the Cleanse before.”

In the safe room, Din and Zakia found the family still hiding behind the table, and Hen jumped up at the sound of their footsteps. He held an ancient blaster in a poor grip, hands shuddering. 

“Oh, thank the Maker.” 

Din snatched the weapon, tucking the blaster into the back of his waistband, underneath his cloak.

“Excuse me-”

“No, excuse me.” The Mandalorian growled. “You claim there has never been an attempt on this house during the Cleanse, but I was just blown up by two Kubazian assassins.”

“Isn’t that what you’re here for?” Juna inquired. 

“It’s just the slightest bit suspicious that the year you willingly hire security- a blackmarket deal, might I add- your house is under attack.” Zakia angled herself towards Hen, who was looking rather sheepish. 

“The feeling of hatred towards trade it growing-”

Din shifted, and his movement alone was enough to hush the fat man in his place. 

“Did you know?”

Zakia thanked the Maker that Din was direct, and done bouncing around the issue.

“...There may have been a credible attempt.”

Both mercenaries rolled their eyes, sighing aloud. “That would have been useful information to have when this began. Because we have seven and a half hours left with no knowledge of any more intruders.”

Ready to take back her place on watch, Zakia padded to the couch. “Tell me if something important happens.”

This time, it was the family dreading seven more hours. 

How bad of company could two mercenaries be?

* * *

When the siren signaled the end of the Cleanse, Din and Zakia were already on the stoop of the Jalkung’s house. No goodbyes were exchanged, just the obscene amount of credits for the job, plus an extra five hundred that Zakia demanded for their troubles. There was no activity on the house past the first attempt, and for that she was even more annoyed. 

“...I’m exhausted.” She yawned, bumping her arm into Mando as they walked down the street. Bodies and blood littered either side, but they walked past it without a care. 

“Me too.” 

With a new job on their ‘never accept again’ list, two assassins walked together into a distant duel sunrise. 


End file.
